


Flirt

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [15]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Making Out, Miscommunication, Slut Shaming, culture clash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 07:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19102738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: 3 times Virgil misunderstood his boyfriends flirting(+1 time they misunderstood his)Love and Other FairytalesVerse





	Flirt

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt from @centrumlumina on tumblr:
> 
> "culture clash between Virgil and the others. Especially seeing something as super-romantic when it wasn't or non-romantic when it was, and/or assuming that they don't know the significance of an action when they absolutely do"
> 
> Ah yes, torturing Virgil with awkwardness, a national pastime.

_Offering someone the last bite of your food, as a gesture of good luck and affection_

* * *

The fairy hill had a very large dining room where Virgil was expected to host elaborate dinners.

Virgil did not do that.

And that had been fine for hundreds of years, but of course in the most  _recent_  hundred the court had gone and gotten used to them, and now Virgil had to do it at least a couple times a month or they got antsy and started pixie-leading humans all over the forest and stealing their stuff and harassing their livestock.

It was  _fucking unbearable_.

And  _Patton –_ ugh. Virgil adored him, but his well-meaning  _insistence_ on attending “so you won’t be alone” made Virgil so anxious on his behalf that the veins in his temples throbbed like they might burst.

But he couldn’t deny that every time he got irritated enough to snarl and Patton slipped his fingers into Virgil’s under the table, he became significantly less murderous.

Honestly, Patton’s presence was probably the only reason he hadn’t throttled at least half a dozen fae.

Didn’t mean Virgil had to like it.

Patton was on Virgil’s right, and White was to his left, across from Patton. Belladonna was on Patton’s other side. It was painfully obvious the three of them were deliberately blocking Patton off from everyone else at the table. And while it was technically Bell’s  _job_ to protect Patton, normally she’d be behind him, so it was a pretty conspicuous seating arrangement.

Patton also only took food one of them handed him directly. Virgil didn’t  _think_  anybody would be stupid enough to try and put a claim on Patton if he took food from them, or give him something enchanted, but nobody was willing to risk it.

Usually it was Virgil, and over the past months he’d learned quite a few things about Patton’s eating habits that Virgil should really not find as cute as he did.

Patton wouldn’t take candied flowers because of his allergies. He didn’t like soup or stew, but he’d eat enough of it to be polite if one of them offered it. Unless they had bread, in which case he delighted in using the bread like a sponge to sop up the soup broth. Sweet foods were his favorite, especially the brown sugar cookies.

So when Patton got Virgil’s attention and held out the uneaten half of one of said cookies, Virgil’s first assumption was understandable.

“Is something wrong with it?” he asked.

Patton shook his head, his mouth quirking a bit.

“No, it’s good. Do you want the last bit?”

Bell snorted on Patton’s other side, quiet enough Virgil thought – hoped,  _prayed_  – Patton hadn’t heard her. White said nothing, but she’d started exuding that particular “silently laughing at all of you” aura of hers.

Virgil, for his part, was trying very hard not to flush under Patton’s sweet, open expression.

If Patton had been another fae, Virgil might have taken it. They were already together and everybody present knew it – it would have been a little bold of Patton to flirt with him so openly in public, but not indecent.

But Patton  _wasn’t_  fae, and would almost certainly be mortified if he found out he’d been blatantly hitting on Virgil in full view of half the Court.

“No, that’s fine,” he said quietly, placing one hand on Patton’s wrist and pushing it down so it didn’t draw so much attention. “Those are your favorite,”

Patton looked confused when Virgil first spoke, but then his whole face softened with fondness.

“You know my favorite cookies?” he cooed.

Not blushing? That was a battle Virgil was  _los_ _ing_.

* * *

_Splitting an apple between lovers ensures a long and happy relationship_

* * *

“A water there is I must pass; a broader water never was. And yet of all waters I ever did see, to pass over with less jeopardy,”

Virgil watched Logan’s considering expression from his place in Logan’s lap. Logan ran his thumb back and forth on Virgil’s temple like a worry stone.

“The dew?” said Logan hesitantly.

Virgil smiled.

“Yeah, you got it. Your turn,”

Logan got a thoughtful look.

“What lives in the winter, dies in summer, and grows it’s roots upwards?”

“An icicle,” said Virgil instantly.

Logan frowned.

“You are much too good at this,”

“You’re the one who wanted to challenge an immortal at  _riddles_ , Specs,” laughed Roman. He and Patton were laying parallel to Virgil, so tangled up it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. Logan was the only one sitting up, his back against the trunk of the apple tree and his hands cradling Virgil’s head in his lap.

“It is your turn,” huffed Logan.

“If I go to the wood and get it, I’ll have to sit down to look for it. If I can’t find it, I’ll have to bring it home,”

A very faint line appeared between Logan’s eyebrows. His face was a picture of concentration, and Virgil couldn’t help but reach up and brush his knuckles against Logan’s cheek.

Logan closed his eyes and leaned into it automatically, then gently swatted at Virgil’s hand.

“You are trying to distract me,” Logan muttered fondly.

“I’m not,” said Virgil, “You’re distracting  _me_ ,”

Logan rolled his eyes but his ears went slightly pink.

“Is the answer a splinter?”

“I was thinking thorn, but basically, yeah,” replied Virgil, “Your turn again,”

“I think I have exhausted my limits for embarrassing myself today,” said Logan dryly.

Virgil was about to respond when there was a brief rustle of leaves above them, and then an apple plopped to the ground.

Roman groaned.

“What?” said Virgil quizzically.

“Apples falling means apple  _picking_ ,” said Roman, “Which means spending all day climbing up and down a rusty ladder with Mamaw barking orders at the bottom,”

“This is one of the very first apples,” said Logan, leaning over and picking it up. He brushed off the dirt and began to polish it with his shirt. “It will be some time before enough of them are ripe to justify breaking out the ladder,”

“Oh, great, something to look forward to,” drawled Roman.

“If don’t pick apples you don’t get pie,” said Patton in a sing-song voice. Roman huffed.

“Do you like apples?” said Logan quietly as Patton and Roman continued to discuss the merits of apple pie. Virgil glanced up.

“Yeah,” said Virgil, “Why?”

“Oh, good. I am going to split the apple in four pieces,” explained Logan.

Virgil’s face flamed instantly.

Logan seemed oblivious to Virgil’s embarrassment as he used his copper pocket knife to cut the apple into quarters. He passed two of them to Roman, who didn’t even pause in what had become a debate about which fruit pies were the best as he handed one of them to Patton. Logan looked down and handed the last fourth to Virgil.

Virgil tried not to look mortified or worse, smitten. It was just an apple. Logan had been raised by humans his whole life. Mortals shared food all the time, as evidenced by Patton’s continued attempts at feeding Virgil at meals, which continued to vex him.

Virgil kept this in mind as he nibbled the apple, turning to hide his flaming face. Honestly, if his partners kept up this trend, they might kill him at this rate.

* * *

_Wearing green to indicate sexual intentions._

* * *

They were  _definitely_ going to kill him.

Specifically, Roman was going to kill him. Or Virgil was going to kill someone on Roman’s behalf, because the other attendees of the revel kept glancing over at Roman and giggling behind their hands.

Because Roman had arrived to the revel in a  _green sweater_.

And then – probably because he didn’t want to move around in the autumn night chill – he’d been sticking close by Virgil all evening.

Virgil was alternating between trying to hide his own blush – Roman didn’t know, couldn’t possibly know that he looked like he was propositioning Virgil in public, and Virgil needed to  _calm down_  – and absolute fury.

Roman’s hearing wasn’t nearly as good as Virgil’s, and Virgil was grateful for it. Virgil didn’t even want to imagine Roman’s face if he could hear the things the fae were saying about him right now.

Virgil carefully took note of their faces in his head; he’d deal with it later, when he wouldn’t have to explain to Roman why he was going on a vindictive rampage

Unfortunately, Virgil was not the only member of this relationship with hearing better than a humans. And Logan didn’t even have the knowledge necessary to know  _why_  they were saying it. Logan had returned with Patton and leaned against Roman’s back, clearly trying and failing not to give away how furious he was.

Roman was right next to Virgil, his legs thrown over Virgil’s lap and Virgil’s hands clasped in his. He released one, reaching back for Logan and Patton. Patton took the hand and Logan just pressed himself closer to Roman’s back.

“Something wrong, Specs?”

“Nothing I would not expect,” said Logan, which was a little bit of a cryptic answer, for Logan. Roman didn’t seem perturbed, tilting his head back to rest on top of Logan’s for a moment.

Then he leaned forward, leaning up.

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked Virgil. If Virgil didn’t know better, he would have though Roman sounded nervous, but Roman had never so much as twitched about asking for affection.

Virgil really shouldn’t kiss Roman in front of the court while he was dressed like this, especially not when they were already being disgustingly cruel, but Roman looked so blithe and open that Virgil couldn’t possibly resist.

He kissed Roman gently, mostly a peck, but Roman apparently had other ideas.

He laced his fingers into Virgil’s hair, sighing into Virgil’s mouth and pulling him closer.

Virgil groaned, dizzy with the smoky taste of RomanRomanRoman and the blazing heat of his mouth, but when Roman tried to deepen the kiss further Virgil retreated, trying to keep his breath under control.

Roman chased his mouth, but Virgil turned his head at the last second, kissing Roman on the cheek and tucking his face into Roman neck. Roman hesitated for a moment, and then relaxed, the hand in Virgil’s hair turning from eager tugging to gentle caresses.

“Love you,” said Roman quietly.

“I love you, too,” said Virgil, using every ounce of restraint he had not to kiss Roman all over again.

* * *

_Putting on a man’s hat is giving a sign one wants to be kissed._

* * *

The late autumn sun was just barely strong enough to warm the air around them. Soon it would be too cold for the humans to have dates outside, and Virgil was glad they were taking advantage of it while they still could.

They were all laying on a strange blue blanket that had one slick side, which repelled water the way Roman did fire – Virgil thought it was the most useful contraption humans had ever come up with, because the ground was damp, but where they were laying felt perfectly dry.

Most of the food had been packed up, and now Virgil and Roman were amusing themselves by tossing grapes back and forth and trying to catch them in their mouths. Logan had initially complained they were wasting food, but when he’d realized Virgil had no fear of germs and was perfectly willing to eat the grapes that rolled off the blanket onto the forest floor he had let it go.

Maybe it was the way Roman was laughing. Maybe it was the general playful air around them. Maybe it was the fact that Virgil had been feeling so much better in the past couple months, the anxiety of worrying someone was going to challenge him and reveal that he’d been weakened by his hundred-year stint in a coffin finally abating as he felt full strength again.

Whatever it was, Virgil caught sight of the baseball cap on Roman’s head and, seized by impulse, swiped it and placed it on his own.

Roman looked startled for a moment, and then he started giggling.

“You look ridiculous,” he snickered.

Virgil’s mirth died pretty quickly, flushing in embarrassment.

Roman moved forward, taking the cap back and tossing it on the blanket next to them as placed his hands around Virgil’s neck and smiled.

“Were you that taken by High School Musical? I wouldn’t think you’d be interested in baseball,”

The embarrassment doubled, because of course Roman had no idea what Virgil had meant with the hat, it had been a hundred years for goodness sake, and hardly anybody  _wore_  hats anymore. Come to think of it, Virgil had never actually seen anybody but Greta and Tobias do that in the first place.

“I already knew about baseball,” said Virgil, avoiding the question.

“Modern baseball had it’s origins around approximately 1845 – it is well within Virgil’s usual knowledge pool,” said Logan.

“Then why did you take my hat?” laughed Roman.

There was no way Virgil was getting out of this conversation gracefully.

Roman seemed to notice just how red Virgil had gotten, and some of his amusement dimmed.

“What?” he said, soundinga little worried.

“It’s not imp-”  _Dammit_.

“I just- think I fumbled something a bit,” said Virgil, looking firmly in any direction but Roman’s.

Roman looked baffled.

“It was just-”

Virgil could feel his face burning with mortification.

“Grettie used to do this… thing with her husband. She’d take his hat and put it on, and she said it was-”

Virgil cut off, and after a long pause Roman pressed him gently.

“…said it was what?”

“Asking for a kiss,” muttered Virgil, “But I didn’t- I thought it was a human thing, but it must have just been a Greta-and-Tobias thing, and now I feel, uh. Really stupid,”

Roman relaxed, rolling his eyes a little. He leaned over and pecked Virgil on the mouth.

“You hardly have anything to be embarrassed about,” he said, “It’d be pretty hypocritical to give you shit for messing up hitting on me the human way when the three of us have been so  _thoroughly_  botching hitting on  _you_  the fae way,”

Virgil froze. Roman kept talking.

“And I… I guess this is as good a time as any, but I did want to apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at the last revel, but you know me. Got all the subtlety God gave a blunt ax,”

“You are perfectly capable of subtlety, you are merely impatient,” said Logan conversationally, “I suggested working your way up to the green, but you didn’t want to wait,”

“Regardless,” said Roman pointedly, “I promise I won’t do it again,”

Virgil stared. His mind has gone muted with white noise.

“You wore green on purpose,” he said flatly.

It was Roman’s turn to go very still, and Patton and Logan both turned to the two of them.

“I- yes?”

“You knew what it meant?” Virgil pressed.

Roman went a little flushed around his neck, but his expression was baffled.

“Of course I knew what it meant I- you thought I didn’t  _know_?”

“You’re human!” said Virgil, “How would you know!”

Roman’s expression suggested he thought Virgil had been punched in the head.

“Virgil,” he said slowly, “I was part of the fairy court almost nightly for nearly two years. Do you honestly think I never saw anybody wear green?”

“Wait-” said Virgil, scrambling backwards in the conversation and pointing at Logan, “You knew, as well?”

Logan tilted his head, confused.

“Yes?” he said, “I have been coming to revels since I was thirteen,”

“So- the apple?”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes, of course,” he said, “The apple was deliberate. We were under an apple tree, Virgil, why would I have split one into four without intention? There were plenty more,”

Virgil was considering the merits of melting.

“So…” said Patton slowly, “Is it safe to assume this is why you won’t take the last bite of anything from me?”

“I-  _what,_ ”

Patton smiled, giggles bubbling out of his throat.

“Sweetheart, I spend all day with my Godmother. We do talk sometimes,”

“Hold on, pause,” said Roman, “So, it’s  _not_  that we’ve been coming on too strong and making you uncomfortable, it’s just that you assumed we were doing it accidentally,”

Virgil cleared his throat and nodded, refusing to make eye contact.

Roman paused for a long moment.

“So…” he said hesitantly, “If I wore green to the next date, theoretically… um…”

It really shouldn’t have taken this long for the full implications of Roman deliberately wearing…  _that_  to catch up to him.

The air felt thick, and Virgil could feel Patton and Logan’s weighted gazes on him. Slowly, he slipped his fingertips just under the hem of Roman’s shirt, and Roman shuddered.

“Don’t even have to wait that long if you don’t want to,” breathed Virgil.

Roman didn’t hesitate a second, throwing himself backwards and pulling Virgil with him. Patton giggled again, breathless and ecstatic, as he came closer, tugging Logan’s hand. Logan went without any resistance, and his pupils were wide and black even as he muttered, rapid and slightly embarrassed, about being outside in broad daylight.

Patton swallowed his voice with a kiss, and it was quite a while before anybody spoke again.

**Author's Note:**

> im [ tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ](%E2%80%9Dtulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) over on tumblr


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